Christ the Life of the Soul

When sins and fears prevailing rise,
And fainting hope almost expires;
Jesus, to thee I lift my eyes,
To thee I breathe my soul's desires.

Art thou not mine, my living Lord?
And can my hope, my comfort die,
Fix'd on thy everlasting word,
That word which built the earth and sky?

If my immortal Saviour lives,
Then my immortal life is sure;
His word a firm foundation gives,
Here, let me build, and rest secure.

Here, let my faith unshaken dwell,
Immoveable the promise stands
Nor all the pow'rs of earth or hell,
Can e'er dissolve the sacred bands.

Here, O my soul, thy trust repose;
If Jesus is forever mine,
Not death itself, that last of foes,
Shall break a union so divine,